


Cool Wonder

by SalamanderArt (SalamanderInk), Sparcina



Series: How Frostiron Could Have Started [25]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Big secrets in small places, Frottage, Idiots in Love, Jötnar are Vulcans, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Overly logical Loki, SHIELD is Starfleet, Secretly pining Tony, Space Opera, Star Trek - MCU crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 11:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalamanderInk/pseuds/SalamanderArt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparcina/pseuds/Sparcina
Summary: Tony Stark may have absolute control over the ship he captains, but there's little he can do to help the way he feels about his Jotun first officer (who would sooner jettison himself than allow his own emotions do dictate his life). But what happens when the two of them end up trapped in a turbolift with only each other for company?AStar Trek AOS/MCU crossoverstarring: Kirk!Tony, Spock!Loki, McCoy!Bruce, Scotty!Peter, Uhura!Natasha/Pepper, Chekov!Steve, Sulu!Bucky.Read long and enjoy!





	Cool Wonder

**Author's Note:**

> Story by Sparcina  
> Art by SalamanderInk (also found on [tumblr](https://salamanderink.tumblr.com/image/184551729310))  
> Beta'd by Succubus Kayko
> 
> ... also, the [reason](https://sparcina.tumblr.com/image/184555229183) why this crossover is logical.

Captain Anthony Stark may be 100% human, but he liked to think that he could be just as logical as the next Jotun. It was perfectly logical, after all, to choose a Jotun as his first officer and chief scientific officer...

... or so he kept telling himself. Nevertheless, Loki of House T’Laufey had an impressive record for one so young as he, and it had necessitated only a few heated discussions with the Admiralty (and some bribes to a few middlemen and middlealiens, but nobody needed to know that) to ensure Loki's presence aboard his ship. The fact that Tony commanded SHIELD’s Flagship had certainly helped the matter along, because there was no lost love between Fury and the only son and heir of decorated martyr Edward Stark.

It had also been logical to interact with his newly appointed XO as much as possible. After all, why acquire the brightest mind on this side of the galaxy if not to parse it on as many occasions as possible? Loki had some work to do on his bedside manner and wouldn’t recognize humor if it bit him in the ass, but he was just so damn brilliant. Tony sure enjoyed that focused expression on his scientific officer’s face, that half-smile that would grace those supple lips whenever the Captain managed to outwit him, be it at a game of chess or during a particularly heated debate about interspecies diplomatic relationships.

The fact that Loki was way too easy on the eye with those startlingly gorgeous red eyes, that silk soft-looking long dark hair and all those acres of exotic blue skin certainly helped balance the constant hits to Tony's ego. Not that he would ever let Loki know about that. After all, admitting to an interest in his first officer would be both inappropriate and highly illogical.

That little fact didn’t keep Anthony from jerking off to thoughts of the Jotun panting on his bed, blue skin flushing that rumored deep purple, pupils blown wide and that toned, hairless chest glistening with sweat. It certainly didn’t keep him from being late because of a too-long conversation with his right hand.

“Is something the matter, Captain?” Loki inquired, not even turning away from his station, where equations and symbols raced each other too fast for the human's eye.

Tony plastered his best everything-is-fine-although-it's-not-but-never-mind grin and sat down in his chair with his usual flourish, spinning it around as he surveyed his crew. Like always, Steve and Bucky were totally absorbed by the navigation and each other, and wouldn't bat an eye even if Tony started dancing, which he'd done, he was pretty sure, at some point last month. As for Natasha, the deadliest person on board the Iron Man after Loki, she sat at her station with her back straight and her fiery red hair held in a tight bun on the top of her head. Tony had no doubt that both her intelligence and her fighting skills were being wasted as a communication officer, but he certainly wasn't going to complain. The Black Widow went where she wanted, did as she pleased, and he would be a fool to criticize any aspect of her work.

Speaking of being a fool… Loki was watching him with an arched brow. As Jötnar only showed emotions with extreme reluctance, Tony had learned to decipher those slim, graceful eyebrows, and right now, the Iron Man's first officer was being annoyed at the time it took the Captain to reply to a simple question.

"I’m fine and dandy, Lokes, thanks for asking.”

Like always when Tony used this nickname to address him, Loki did that infinitesimal motion with his eyebrows.

“You are 2.45 minutes late, therefore I surmised-”

"You surmise entirely too much for your own good, Lokes. Okay, Natasha, any notice from SHIELD Command? Bucky, how long till we reach Kree Space?"

The Iron Man's Alpha crew was a well-oiled machine, and soon enough Tony's focus had shifted from the one person he should stop thinking about to all the things that required his full attention. Being Captain wasn't a walk in the park, no matter how well Tony played his part, and he was very protective of his crew. A mistake in communication from SHIELD Central (damn that one-eyed asshole) had put the Iron Man into Chitauri space just a week prior, and it had only been thanks to Steve's miraculously fast reflexes, the kid’s engineering wonders and the Captain's deception tactics that everyone on board had escaped a swift death.

So, focus was key. And logic. Logic kept Tony from being too distracted by this first officer, and he was distracted enough in his free time already. Of course, Loki was never far, ready to offer his counsel at a moment's notice.

"I would advise a different course of action," Loki said in his smooth, cultured voice as Tony told him about the upcoming negotiations with the Klyntar, which would involve very few by-the-book methods if he had any say in it, and unfortunately for Fury, Tony was uniquely qualified to deal with Venom’s people, if for no better reason than that the only alien symbiote currently on Earth and his human host really liked the Iron Man’s Captain.

"Why, Loki, don't you trust me?"

"I only ever trust your wish and ability to anger the Admiralty, Captain."

Tony grinned. "Are you being snarky, Lokes?"

"Jötnar are not 'snarky', Captain."

"Now you're just being obtuse."

"I do not-"

As much as he would like to know if today was the day he managed to make Loki lose his perfect composure, Tony was master enough of his ridiculous urges to focus on the task at hand, namely get Loki on his side. If he wanted his plan regarding the Klyntar to work, he had to have his XO on board. Completely.

"We'll discuss your lack of a sense of adventure another day, Lokes. Here, look at this-"

Loki leaned into him to follow the Captain's finger. Tony suppressed the desire to simply pull the Jotun into his lap for a proper kiss and proceeded to enumerate all the logical reasons why his unorthodox plan beat that damn manual Loki could quote by heart. It took quite a while, and Loki almost raised his voice twice, but by the time Natasha interrupted them with a communication from SHIELD Central, Tony was pretty sure his first officer would back him up when the time came. He allowed himself a smug smile, but Loki, of course, merely allowed his eyebrows a millimetre leeway before walking over to Steve, a precisely formulated question already rolling off his tongue.

Tony spent a good half-second picturing himself sucking on his all-too-clever tongue before jerking loose yet another thread of fantasy. Goddamn it, all those efforts at self-control just weren't part of his genetic makeup.

"Natasha, open a channel with the Klyntar Embassy, will you?"

"Aye, Captain."

*

Twenty minutes past the end of his shift, Tony remained seated, too engrossed by all the new data the King of Wakanda had sent to his PADD a moment ago to bother with mundane things such as eating and resting. He could sense a headache coming on (thirty-three hours without sleep, among which five of them were spent trying to get some relief by fingering himself until his hand was numb and his mind a blur of blue lithe bodies sliding alongside his own, would do that to anyone), but he forged ahead, pretty sure he was close to a scientific orgasm of some kind. Wakanda was so advanced that even the Iron Man’s Chief not-quite-legal Engineer was eating from the palm of their hand, and Peter was quite ahead of his own time already.

"Captain?"

"Yeah, Clint?"

The pilot who had replaced Steve was watching him with concern. "Shouldn't you be getting rest or something? I mean, you look like hell."

"You sure know how to speak to a guy, Hawkeye."

"We're just concerned about you, Captain," Pepper piped from the communication station.

Tony waved with his right hand, locking his PADD with the other. "All right, all right, I'm leaving. You have the con, Pep’."

The other fierce red hair on board nodded and strode to his chair with calm confidence. "We'll take care of him, Captain."

"I know the Iron Man is in good hands." Tony smiled at her. "Don't party too hard in my absence, though, it's rude."

Clint snorted, and Pepper did that half-exasperated, half-fond moue that was her trademark response to the Captain’s doubtful humor. Tony smiled back, and then spun on his heels, rubbing at his temples. He was pretty sure Brucey-Bear wouldn't approve of his use of alcohol as a means to relax, but Tony was well-known to trek the path less recommended and planned to get drunk just enough to be able to forget his unfortunate attraction for a certain Jotun long enough to...

This plan was shot to hell when Tony spotted Loki standing by the turbolift, chin held high and hands clasped behind his back. Refusing to pay any attention to the flutter in his stomach (and failing miserably), he nodded at Loki and entered the lift.

"Shouldn't you be supervising your minions in the science lab or something equally logical?"

"Accompanying you to your quarters to ensure that you get the rest you obviously need is most logical," Loki replied smoothly.

He pulled a wayward strand of black hair behind his pointed ear, drawing Tony's eyes to the blue point. Rumors had it that Jötnar’s ears were almost as sensitive as their fingers (and they kissed with those hands). Not that Tony knew any of this for sure (he only spent a great deal of time imagining).

"I'm perfectly able to find my own rooms," he said at last, straightening a little as the turbolift began its descent. His distaste of turbolifts was no secret. "You don't have to-"

"That is not the point, Captain."

"Then what is the point, Loki? And will you stop with the titles already? We're off shift, for Christ's sake."

The Jotun tensed. For the space of a heartbeat, Tony could have sworn that Loki was... shy. The lighting in the lift was too dim for Tony to be sure, but that enticing blue skin seemed a shade darker now. Unconsciously, he licked his lips.

"Lokes?"

It was unusual for the Jotun to wrap himself into silence. Illogical, too. As if hearing his thoughts, Loki turned completely in his direction. His handsome features were set in determination, as they were often, but his lips were pressed together, as if he was struggling with himself. He looked incredibly tense, too, and for some reason, that was the thing that made Tony nervous.

"Captain, I-"

Just as Tony was going to cut in with another protest at being Captain-ified outside working hours, the turbolift jerked to a violent stop. If not for Loki's impressive reflexes, he would have been slammed into the wall.

"Are you all right, Captain?"

Tony's heart hammered fiercely. He could feel the saliva thicken in the back of his throat as an old, familiar fear crept up his spine. "Sure thing, Lokes. All in one piece." His eyes travelled down his own arm, and zeroed on Loki's blue fingers wrapped securely around his tanned wrist. The grip was a tad too strong, which wasn't unusual for a Jotun per se, as they were much stronger than humans, but Loki usually had perfect control over his own body (Tony shivered), and would never use an ounce more strength than was strictly necessary.

Which meant that Loki was just as stressed out as Tony was, and wasn't that the complete opposite of reassuring?

Tony slammed a lid down his growing anxiety. It was probably just Peter having a little too much fun with the ship's environmental controls. They were going at Warp 5 in Jotun space, and someone would have said something by now if the ship was under attack. Alarms would be blaring, or something equally ominous.

“What the fuck?”

“I believe the turbolift is experiencing a malfunction.”

Tony rolled his eyes so hard he half-expected them to get stuck on reverse. “No shit, Loki.”

“What do excrements have to do with our current predicament?”

Tony didn’t bother answering that, mostly because he was concerned about the aforementioned predicament, but also because every time Loki expressed his confusion about human slang and metaphors with that slight frown and delicious twist of lips, Tony very, very much wanted to kiss the living daylights out of him.

Tony flipped open his communicator just as his wrist was being released.

"What the Hel is going on with my lift?" He snapped, cutting whoever answered on the line.

"I'm looking into the situation right now, Captain," Peter, the overachieving youngster, answered hurriedly with plenty of deference. "I apologize for-"

Tony sighed. Get a hold of yourself, you're the fucking Captain and the kid has done nothing to deserve your temper. "You do that, kid. Stark out."

He waited all of five seconds before contacting the teleportation room. "This is the Captain, two to beam out of a malfunctioning lift," he said tersely.

Loki's hand brushed his shoulder, but Tony barely noticed, too caught up in the frustrating fact that apparently, the lift malfunction prevented him from being teleported away from the encroaching space. He exhaled through his nose, willing himself to remain calm. Logic dictated that the lift would resume its operations in less than five minutes, ten at most.

Screw logic, Tony thought with an iron grip on his communicator. He was not a Jotun, as much as he would have liked it, and fear could override his higher functions, especially in small spaces. After all, his own father had died in front of him in a turbolift similar to this one, and Tony, then only three years old, had gone through a) almost being shot by the beam that had left a hole in the wall of the turbolift b) watching is father bleed to death c) almost asphyxiating to death because of that same hole. All in all, he wasn't overly fond of turbolifts or any room around those dimensions.

Needless to say, when the lift screeched ominously and fell down another few feet, before stopping again even more abruptly than before, Tony's stomach dropped all the way down to the warp core. His chest felt too tight, his lungs filled with water, and sweat beaded down his brow. The Jotun's hand on his wrist (when had Loki re-established that link?) should have felt cold, but panic must be messing with his perception, because as far as he was concerned, his wrist was the only warm spot in his body. An anchor, on which he turned all of his focus. Breathe in. Breathe out. Nobody's going to die today.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

"Anthony..." The voice of his father followed the rush of blood in his ears. Tony's vision narrowed down to an undulating tunnel, and nausea uncoiled in his belly. He meant to wrap his arms around himself, but he was back in that lift gasping for air, a child kneeling in his father's blood hanging on to a handle as all the oxygen around him went out in a hiss through the hole in the wall. Fire lit the dark space beyond, where Chitauri battleships spread out like a sea of death. He was alone and afraid, and he couldn't breathe...

“No.” The whimper was punched out of his chest.

Hands cupped his face suddenly, and red balls of fire replaced the warlike vista.

“I would advise you to sit down, Captain. You need to calm down-”

“I know that,” Tony gritted between his teeth. “But in case you haven’t... noticed..." Breathe, breathe, damn it. “We're in a very small... space-” his voice wobbled. "We're going to go out of oxygen-”

“Captain-”

“… and I'd rather not die this way-"

“Captain, sit down,” the Jotun ordered.

Tony was so shocked by the steel in that tone that he stopped rambling and actually let the Jotun move him to a sitting position, legs stretched out in front of him, back against the wall. He already missed the hands on his face, was the only thought that managed to cross the network of panicky sparks that was his current state of mind.

Eventually, he reconnected with the real world. And Loki’s concerned expression.

“What?” he snapped, hating the shaky, pleading note in his voice. “This is my fucking ship. I’m worried,” he added, twisting the truth just a little.

Loki arched a brow. He was kneeling in front of him, in a very human position for once.

“Worrying about a situation you cannot change is highly illogical," he said, voice unaccountably soft.

“I know... that!”

“And you must know as well,” Loki went on, “that we have enough oxygen at our disposal enough to last us at least 1.87 day..."

By the Norns, Loki's bedside manner really sucked.

"I apologize."

The words startled Tony. Had he complained out loud? The next thing he knew, Loki took hold of his shoulders, the pressure grounding. Tony's breath hitched.

"I will not let any harm come to you, Captain. This is but an uncomfortable moment to pass."

There were barely a few inches of space between their faces, and Loki's clean scent washed over Tony. The sense of overwhelming powerlessness receded, enough for the gentle pressure of Loki's hands to fight off the panic.

Loki was so, so close. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lean in and taste those velvety-looking lips…

Perish that thought, Tony scolded himself. As much as the idea was tempting, he wouldn’t do that to Loki. It wouldn’t be right (because Loki wasn’t attracted to him), and it wouldn’t be professional. Besides, Tony was a genius; surely he could think of something else to ensure he didn’t go mad in that malfunctioning lift? Except that he could not, because his chest was becoming even more constricted than before, and the heat matching fantasies of Loki devolved into the cold of panic, a never-ending loop of ohfuckI’mgonnadieandIfailedeveryone, Idon’tdeservethisship and IhavetogetLokioutbutIcan’t.

“… Captain… Captain… Anthony!”

Hearing his full first name in Loki’s mouth was what pulled him out of his daze.

That, and the cool hand on his face. Those slim blue fingers were cradling his cheek, the strength in them just enough to tilt Tony’s head up. Loki’s red eyes caught his and held them. Steady.

“We have faced worse odds,” the Jotun said with confidence. “Breathe, Anthony.”

“I can’t-”

“You can. Here, you shall focus on my heartbeat and endeavor to match it.”

Tony felt his own heartbeat spike as Loki’s other hand directed one of his own to his chest and splayed it over the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Breathe,” Loki reminded him.

Tony’s hand spasmed on the Jotun’s chest. By the Norns, he was touching Loki. He could sense his heartbeat through his shirt, and it was faster than he would have expected, as if Loki, too, was struggling. Now that Tony was paying attention to the present, he noted that Loki’s cheeks were slightly darker than usual, a heady compromise between blue and purple.

The lift chose that moment to shake madly as if a Celestial had opted for a new plaything, and Tony was ashamed (or would be, later) to say that he actually squealed in terror, holding on to Loki for dear life. When the lift finally stilled, he jumped to his feet, fully determined to sublimate his panic into something useful for once.

“Captain?”

“Try to contact Engineering again,” he snapped, throwing his communicator at Loki.

Peter had nothing new to say, but Tony had expected the worst, so he’d already torn open the control panel on the wall, completely disregarding his XO’s advice to sit down and wait. Tony didn’t wait. Captains didn’t sit down and let the universe right itself: they acted, found solutions, even if they had to burn their fingers and receive several electric shocks. Tony wasn’t even aware that he was bleeding from the tip of three fingers when Loki forcibly pulled himself away from the exposed wires.

“You are hurting yourself,” the Jotun said with clear annoyance, and also the hint of an emotion Tony couldn’t decipher.

“I’m trying to fix this!”

“You shall calm down first.”

Tony gritted his teeth. “As your Captain, I’m ordering you to- oh.”

The Jotun had just taken hold of his bruised and bleeding hands, pointers against pointers, middle fingers against middle fingers. Tony felt his eyes widen comically, and then his heart resume a quicker pace. Anxiety gave way to wonder and hope.

“Isn’t…” He licked his lips, eyes devouring Loki’s definitely (unexpected) shy expression. “Are you kissing me right now? I mean.” He cleared his throat as a hint of shyness crept into his own voice. “Jötnar kiss with their fingers, right?”

“It is only logical,” Loki replied in a soft voice, a faint blush raising to his cheeks.

Bye bye, panic, hellooooooo arousal.

“To cool my hands with your own or to kiss me?” Tony prompted, gently rubbing his fingertips against Loki’s.

The Jotun blushed harder. “You are supposed to be intelligent, for a human.”

“You know that you suck at complimenting people, Lokes, but I still l-”

Loki slotted their mouths together just then, which kept Tony from having to decide between 'like' and 'love'. And also, to better appreciate the heavenly pressure of Loki’s lips. By the Norns, but the Jotun tasted divine. Licking alongside Loki’s tongue, he savored the notes of spices and cold, a sweet mixture that delighted his taste buds entirely too much. He couldn't stop the approving growl that escaped his lips, but judging by the way the hand in his hair tightened and the one on his chest clutched his shirt with enough strength to tear at the fabric, Loki didn't seem to mind.

Tony loathed to pull back, but oxygen was something his body needed. Breathing hard against Loki’s lips, he allowed his attention to travel down the sinful line of Loki's body against his. For all his claims of level-headedness and collected demeanor, Loki showed only pure, unadulterated hunger as he reached for the Captain's buttocks and curled his fingers like claws in the thin fabric just below his tail bone, as he rocked those narrow hips of his, unabashedly, into Tony's own. And when Tony moaned, hips jerking forth to press his aching erection into Loki's own, two cool hands splayed across his buttocks and lifted him off the floor in one graceful show of strength.

"Holy shit!"

His gasp was swallowed by an eager mouth. Tony returned the kiss, gripping Loki's shoulders for balance, a superfluous manoeuvre considering that Loki seemed perfectly able to bear all of his Captain's weight with nothing else but his arms. That was so, so hot, and Tony made a mental note to tell Loki precisely that when he wasn't busy being devoured whole.

Loki wrapped his lips around Tony's tongue and sucked just that side of too hard, as if he couldn't get enough of Tony's taste. Pining Tony to the wall with his hips, he freed his hands and growled low in his throat, snaking his sensitive fingers in between their bodies to explore his belly, tease the rippling muscles of his abs just above his belly button. His hands were shaking, a part of Tony’s mind notified him in awe. Loki was eager, no, not eager: desperate. Tony had never seen his first officer so utterly out of control before, all that Jotun energy unbound, directed towards Tony, to take, to savor, and it was addictive.

"Loki..."

Unable to help himself, he mouthed at Loki's ear, first the lobe, which he tongued eagerly as the Jotun whimpered. Cool thumbs caught Tony's nipples and rubbed circles around them, causing Tony to voice his helpless arousal in turn. That firm touch was heavenly distracting, but Tony wouldn't be deterred from his sensual quest. His lips met the tip of a blue ear and played with it.

At once Loki's hands flew to Tony's hips and squeezed hard, burying a spasm borne of surprise. The sound Loki made as Tony bit down on the textured tip of his ear was akin to a mewl, shaky and full of passion. Tony did it again, turned on beyond measure. By the Norns, he could spend the whole day playing with Loki's ear, learning every sweet spot with his mouth and fingers, crooning all the frankly graphic, highly illogical things Tony wished to do to him, with him.

After letting out another one of those delicious keening noises, Loki turned his head away. His breathing was ragged, his whole face a study in purple Tony immediately committed to memory.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he whispered in awe, his brain-to-mouth filter shot to hell.

Loki licked his lips in a decidedly nervous gesture. "You are not referring to my temperature," he said in a rough voice that sent sparks through Tony's body.

"No, I'm not."

"You are not without appeal yourself, Anthony."

Tony had a sarcastic quip on the tip of his tongue, but Loki resumed his frantic rutting, mouth working at Tony's throat, and well... There was truly nothing to add.

"If it is agreeable to you, I would... like to stimulate you manually."

"Fuck yes." Tony panted, and then growled as those agile fingers danced over his clothed erection. "You can do anything you want to me."

Loki's only reply was to take one of Tony's hands and place it over the bulge in his own pants. Tony's brain (what was left of it, anyway) promptly short-circuited.

"Holy fuck." He cupped the Jotun’s clothed member with clear intent, mouth watering at the now distinct possibility to be allowed on his knees in the foreseeable future. "I want that in me at some point, just so we're clear on that. If that's something you would like, that is."

"It is." Loki hissed, and then sank his teeth right over Tony's pulse point.

Tony pulled down Loki's waistband just in time to catch the first drop of cum. It was thick and transparent, almost cold, and Tony was so close, so close to coming just by sensing Loki's lean into the touch and emptying himself into his hand. Especially since Loki was so far gone that he was whimpering in Jotun.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

Loki sagged against him with a throaty moan. Tony brought his hand up and licked his fingers clean, just a little disappointed that his hand-to-cock first meeting had been so brief.

Loki's fiery eyes zeroed on his mouth.

"You taste like the space feels,” Tony crooned, caressing his lower lip. “Like the stars-"

Loki chased his own taste with a ferocious growl, his softening length pressing into Tony’s twitching cock.

"I wish to give you release,” the Jotun groaned. "Come for me… Captain."

Suddenly, Tony’s pants were down to his thighs, and Loki's hand was splayed over his balls and the base of his cock, his index finger rubbing at his perineum with clear intent. The pressure was hard, unforgiving, a desire and a demand that punched Tony's orgasm from his body. His balls tightened, and then he was coming with a sob, filling the cool cup of his first officer’s hand with thick ropes of cum. Loki nuzzled at his neck, whispering in Jotun. Tony’s thighs shook a bit. When was the last time a hand job had felt so incredible?

The answer was never.

Loki pulled back. He had a wide smile that was part satisfaction, part delight, part hunger. His eyes shone, too, as if to convey whatever his smile couldn't. It was the first time Tony saw so much emotion on the Jotun's face, and if Loki had always been handsome, that expressiveness made him downright stunning.

Loki brushed their fingers together. Tony swallowed hard, setting his forefinger and index finger against Loki's.

Loki's mouth caressed his, briefly.

"I believe you are due some rest," he said just as the turbolift's doors slid open.

Peter sure had perfect timing. Tony pulled his cock back into his bands and straightened himself out. Loki appeared perfectly composed once more, but there was a hint of pleasure lighting up his eyes that hadn’t been there before the kiss. Before… everything that had just transpired between them.

Tony swallowed back all the stupid and/or complicated things he ached to say and stepped out the lift, just a little bit unbalanced. Loki’s hand was immediately at his lower back, a steady pressure. A claim, too? Tony found it increasingly hard to keep quiet.

“Shall I accompany you the rest of the way to your quarters, Captain?” Loki asked, hand curling in his shirt.

Tony shot him a sideways glance, absolutely thrilled. Apparently, that legend about Jötnar being very possessive of their lover was true.

“Only if you rest with me,” he said, injecting heat into the word ‘rest’.

In reply, Loki kissed him Jotun style.

**Author's Note:**

> This whole Loki is Spock and Tony is Kirk reminds me of that very good book by Richard Morgan, _Altered Carbon_ , in which people can switch between bodies, or ‘sleeves’– meaning, you get to see the same expressions on different faces at times. And yes, there’s a TV show of the same name, but the book’s much better (there’s also two sequels).


End file.
